Suspicions of a Good Heart
by FloatingCloudBadger
Summary: Hannah doesn't think through where she's running to, but she certainly doesn't expect Professor Snape to let her into his office when she's sobbing as hard as she is.
1. 1

**A/N – This is a sort of follow on to my story Possessions. You don't really need to know what happened in it, though, to get this. Hope you enjoy.**

Hannah's in a panic before she even knows where she is.

She can hear Pansy laughing at her and Draco still making snide remarks – she can see Susan looking at her with puzzlement and Ernie blushing furiously, looking slightly angry – she can feel the quick withdrawal of Leanne's arm from her shoulders in shock. She can sense all of that, but that's it, and that's fine because that's all that's important – but she can't take it anyway. She can't take it, and before she knows what is happening, she feels tears bud in her eyes and she bolts.

She doesn't want any of this. She never intended any of this. She never thought that any of this would happen, and now that it is, she doesn't even _understand._ Why is this happening?

And where is Luna? Off with Ron's sister and her other open-minded friends… and Hannah's here alone, and it isn't fair, because Luna kissed _her_ and now it's Hannah who people are judging – laughing at – talking about – staring at, and Luna isn't here…

She doesn't have a proper idea of where she's running to. Somewhere safe, away from all them – yes, that's what she needs, but she can't even go to her usual refuge, her dorm. Where can she go? She thinks then of her teachers' constant assurances that people can come to them if they're upset, and she knows instantly that that's the safe place she has to get to – but who? Professor Lupin is ill again, Professor Sprout is busy with those First Years, Professor McGonagall will think she's being silly…

Of course, all these thoughts are going at the same speed as Hannah – fast – and they're just as muddled up and panicked. She doesn't really think through where she's going, the only person left, someone who she's always vaguely thought has a good heart underneath it all – and she's down in the dungeons before she knows why.

The crying has reached a whole new level by this point. It's not just crying now, it's sobbing – huge, heavy sobs running through her whole body and scaring her. She's terrified of meeting one of the larger Slytherins and humiliating herself.

It's ironic considering she's actually running to the largest Slytherin of all, but Hannah doesn't think about that as she raises her shivering hand and knocks weakly at Professor Snape's door.

A second later, the door swings violently open and Hannah vaguely registers Professor Snape's black robes in her eye line. He doesn't speak straightaway, and Hannah suspects, though she can't see him through her tears, that he's completely confused. She panics for a second that he's going to laugh at her or send her away… but then (and she's almost surprised at this) he steps silently aside to let her in.

She sits nervously down on the chair in front of his desk as he half-slams the door and goes to sit opposite her. This is weird, this isn't what Hannah would have thought she'd be doing – but it isn't that bad. It's certainly weird, though, and Hannah starts to feel more aware of her surroundings_._

She jumps when Professor Snape's harsh voice comes down on her. "You're hysterical, Miss Abbott," he says coldly. "Control yourself if you expect any sympathy from me."

She nods hurriedly, trying to stop the tears. She's surprised, though, when she chances a glance up to him, that his face isn't completely empty of emotion – and she's surprised at the fact that there's the tiniest bit of worry there.

It's not only because it's Professor Snape that she's surprised he looks worried. That's a factor, of course – but Hannah knows that she's a bit of a cry baby. She's surprised that he's taking her seriously when he's seen her cry at least three times before – and now that she thinks about it, two of those times, he made some comment about it… and now he's _worried_?

He's doing his best to hide it, though, and Hannah isn't surprised. He probably doesn't want people to think of him as the nice guy, like Professor Lupin – the one people can go to without judgement – the gentle Potions professor. Still, it's not working – and Hannah can see that this isn't something he's used to.

Just as he's about to speak again, Hannah suddenly thinks of what it is that made her want to go and see Professor Snape in the first place. She remembers that time, in Potions, in First Year, when she had been ill, and had a really high temperature, but she had been too afraid to tell Professor Snape – and he had noticed and kept her after class, giving her medicine and generally not being a dick for a change.

That had been one of those moments – one of those moments when you suddenly understand something you didn't get before. She had never understood why Professor Snape had become a teacher if he didn't seem to like children that much – but that day, that day, that day, with all that care – she had understood, and she had always felt, after that, that Professor Snape must have a good heart underneath it all.

She takes a deep breath as he begins to speak. "Are you unwell, Miss Abbott?" he asks, more quietly. "Have you hurt yourself?"

Hannah – Miss Abbott, if that's how we're playing it – silently shakes her head, and though she knows she should elaborate, she can't really say anything for the moment.

Professor Snape sighs, and she automatically stiffens for a second. For while Professor Snape had been nice to her on occasion, he did spend most of his time being a complete bastard. Why had she come here, of all places? She had thought Professor McGonagall wouldn't take her seriously – so she had come to Professor Snape? That didn't make the slightest bit of sense, and Hannah was becoming more and more aware of that by the second.

But then Professor Snape says something that surprises her. "What has happened to upset you?" he asks, steadily, evenly, without even a hint of sarcasm.

Hannah sniffs, wiping her eyes with the tissue that Professor Snape hands her. She feels calmer now, even though she's only been her a few minutes. She's still shaking, certainly, and there are still tears that want to come, but Hannah's doing a better job of not holding them back now. It still hurts – and she's upset – but she's calmer now. She still doesn't speak though, but Professor Snape doesn't sigh this time.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me the problem," he says, still not warmly, still not kindly, still stiff and just the tiniest bit uncertain, but he still says it. He has still said something nice to Hannah, and it's a huge effort not to cry again.

She wipes her face a final time and looks up at Professor Snape. "I'm sorry to bother you, Professor," she begins, her voice shaky. She knows it's ridiculous to say that, but she can't help it. She's Hannah. She's infinitely polite. "It's just…"

Professor Snape, now watching her intently for an answer, sits down on the chair on the other side of the desk. "Go on," he says quietly.

**A/N – I nearly died writing this. Literally nearly died of all the feelings. **


	2. 2

**2**

Severus can't say that he completely understands what's going on, but he's trying to make it work.

When he heard the knock at the door, he assumed it was Minerva or some other equally annoying member of staff – maybe a first year needing help with homework, at a push, but certainly not _this._ Not a sobbing third year Hufflepuff, wanting a hug or advice or something – come to see _him_. He can't remember this ever having happened before. This isn't the kind of thing that happens to a teacher like Severus.

His original instinct was to snap at her – tell her to pull herself together – make some sarcastic comment – advise her to go and find Minerva or Pomona or someone. He wasn't quite able to do that, though. He could tell, just from her eyes, that she was expecting that, dreading that, even. That seemed to be exactly what she was afraid of – and Severus couldn't quite bring himself to do that to her.

He can't say exactly that he's _fond_ of a silly little girl like Hannah Abbott, but he does have to admit that he feels the tiniest bit protective of girls like her. They're all so innocent, the ones like her, the shy ones, the quiet ones, and Severus knows that sometimes they need taken care of.

He vividly remembers Hannah Abbott in the first term of her first year. He remembers how she had looked so ill and how she, for some reason, had been so frightened of telling him. With most people, he would have just left her, but with Hannah… well, it had felt too harsh, especially since from the bits of conversations Severus had eavesdropped on that lesson which suggested that she had no intention of going at all.

He had held her back after the lesson, and tried not to feel guilty when she looked terrified, only watching with cold eyes as she came closer. "You are unwell, Miss Abbott," he had said plainly, staring straight at her. "Have you visited the Hospital Wing?"

She had shaken her head, starting to mumble something about how she was fine, just had a headache, really, it's fine, Professor, thank you very much for your concern, but he had interrupted her.

"Do not insult my intelligence," he had said sharply, hoping that tough love would help. "I can see plainly that you are unwell. Drink this."

Hannah hadn't met his eyes, but mumbled a polite "thank you, Professor," as he had handed her the cup and she had drunk, as trusting as a child. As soon as it was down her, she had looked instantly better – but even the harsh Severus had been able to tell that she couldn't return to lessons.

"Come with me," he had said, more gently this time, and then he had led her to the Hufflepuff sick room, where she had slept all afternoon. He had reckoned that probably she didn't know it was him in the next room, sitting there all afternoon in case she became worse, because Professor Sprout was too busy with NEWT exams – but Severus didn't particularly mind. It was a quiet place to do his work that afternoon, in any case.

That has been the extent of their relationship, for the past two years, up until now. He has been her strict Potions teacher, she has been his gentle Potions student, and, though he has been able to tell that she likes him more than her classmates due to that event, he has never expected anything like this.

It's funny – because he knows that Hannah is a bit of a cry baby, and if he had come across her in a corridor or a bathroom, crying her eyes out like this, he would have laughed at her (actually, come to think of it, he did that only last month). It's the fact that Hannah, who's never asked a soul for anything before, has come to see him, upset like this.

Still, he isn't soft and cuddly like he imagines Pomona must be at times like this. He isn't going to talk to her when she's like this – she needs to have some self control. "You're hysterical, Miss Abbott," he says coldly. "Control yourself if you expect any sympathy from me."

He regrets his harsh tone slightly when he sees Hannah flinch. Stupidly, he lets a tiny bit of emotion onto his face –and he regrets that much more when Hannah unexpectedly glances up at him, and he's sure she sees it. He quickly turns his face away, but he's sure she's seen.

Trying to take his mind off of it, he wonders what has happened, and he knows that the only way to find out is to ask. He tries the obvious, first, and asks her if she feels ill, preparing to give her a potion and a pat on the back, hoping furiously that she'll nod, or even have a nosebleed or something.

She shakes her head, and Severus' heart sinks.

He sighs, because he can't help it. It's going to be a long evening, and Severus needs some air to prepare himself for it. He starts to talk again, and he's even this time, he's steady – he can't let the Abbott girl see that he's worried about her, or she'll take advantage. He needs to stay steady. That's not to say he can bring himself to be cruel, though.

"What has happened to upset you?"

Hannah pauses, and doesn't reply, and Severus hates it, but he knows he's going to have to coax it from her. "I can't help you if you don't tell me the problem," he says, hating himself even as he does so, but he's glad that it finally helps her to talk. She spews some kind of polite rubbish, which Severus ignores, but then she starts to talk.

"It's just…" she says, and trails off.

"Go on," says Severus quietly.

**A/N – I'm not entirely sure if I want to continue this in the same sort of events from both perspective thingy. Anyone have any opinions on it?**


	3. 3

**3**

Hannah's throat almost feels like it's closing up.

What is she doing here? She can't tell _Professor Snape_ that she's… and there's the other thing! She doesn't know _what_ she is. How the – how on earth is she meant to put any of this crap into words?

She stays silent for a second more, swallowing the anger and chewing nervously on her lip, trying to work up her courage. Then she takes a big, deep, steadying breath and screws up that courage – not the flashy kind of courage that Gryffindors have, but that quiet kind that only belongs to a Hufflepuff – and she tells him, quietly, tentatively, "I kissed one of the Ravenclaws, and it's a she."

Continuing to stare at her knees, she worries for a split second about Professor Snape's reaction. She's never actually _told_ anyone about it, before, and so she has no idea how people react to things like this. Will he throw her out of his office, is her next, slightly irrational thought, calling her a freak as he does so?

"Ah," he says softly, at last.

Hannah nods uncomfortably, smiling slightly in embarrassment. She's holding back tears again, determined not to let them fall and embarrass herself further.

"Do you feel you might be a lesbian?"

She flinches instinctively, glancing quickly away from her Potions professor's piercing gaze. She doesn't like that word – she doesn't know if that word's her – that's half the _point_ – and for some reason, she finds herself thinking back to her first kiss ever, with Ernie.

She was in second year, then, and her and Ernie were alone in the common room for the first time in ages. That being said, they were there for ages, that Wednesday night, sitting next to each other on the sofa in the middle of the cosy room, and, to Hannah's relief, Ernie wasn't even stressing over the time of night, because it was the holidays – and they had been sitting there for an age, alone, talking, in a dimly lit room, when Ernie turned to face her.

"I really like you, Hannah," he blurted out uncomfortably, and Hannah didn't even need to say anything back. She just leaned in, and returned Ernie's kiss.

And that was so straightforward – so easy – and she even woke Susan and Leanne up to tell them, buzzing with excitement at her first kiss. There had been no worrying about it, no confusion, no trying to hide it – and most of all, the gossip that had ensued had been friendly and casual. Now, with this, this – this _what_?

She can't be a lesbian, she just can't be. She's not even just assuming that because she doesn't fit in with the stereotype – she genuinely enjoyed it just as much with Luna as she did with Ernie. What's more, she can't even try it out again, or work it out on her own or whatever, because now everyone knows…

She finds herself furiously holding back tears again. She doesn't really know how to answer him, but she can't just leave him hanging… Though she knows it's a waste of her breath, she whispers, "I don't know," her voice choked, because she has nothing else to say.

Professor Snape hands her another tissue from behind his desk, evidently able to tell that she's about to start crying again. He doesn't comment on her hysteria this time, thankfully, and that's nice. Astonishingly nice, actually, for Professor Snape, and in gratitude to him, she only lets out a few small sobs before stifling them again.

She can feel his eyes on her closely, waiting for her to say something else. She obliges – but she doesn't know if it's that helpful, or not. "I'm a bit confused," she mumbles. "It's supposed to feel different, kissing girls and boys, I think. But it doesn't."

She finally looks up to meet his eyes, hoping for a response of some kind. That's a little bit of her soul she's just bared – and Professor Snape had better not be sarcastic.

He looks back at her closely. "Everyone's different, Miss Abbott," he says calmly, his eyes quite blank. "There is no way in which something is "supposed" to feel."

It's odd, because his words sound like a telling off, but it doesn't feel like that, and when Hannah looks away, it's not from guilt or shame, it's because she's thinking. He's right, actually, astonishingly – everyone feels differently about stuff.

Her tissue is scrunched up in her hand, now, and she finds herself staring at it. This whole situation is ridiculous… Why should she expect comfort and sympathy? She isn't the first homosexual – bisexual – pansexual – _whatever_ person to come to Hogwarts and get teased – why should she try and get sympathy for this?

She's just thinking this when Professor Snape interrupts her train of thought. "When did this happen, Miss Abbott?" he asks.

She looks up at him. "This afternoon, Professor," she answers, glad to have a straightforward question at last.

Professor Snape looks back at her with the tiniest bit of curiosity in his eyes. "May I ask why it's upset you so suddenly now?"

Hannah looks away. She suddenly remembers the most important part of the story that she's left out, and suddenly remembers why it is that she's here, _still_ trying not to cry, sitting across from Professor Snape and having a chat about her life. "Some of the Slytherins…" she begins tentatively, very aware that she isn't here to tattle. "I think some of the Slytherins must have seen it, because they were – they were sort of teasing me about it."

Professor Snape stays silent and still for a second, looking intently at Hannah, but then he stands up – but not for any reason that Hannah can fathom, and, walking over to the window, he stands for a second, staring pensively away from her. She thinks that maybe he's thinking of something to help her – but he doesn't say anything, and Hannah can't even see his expression.

There's a long silence, with Hannah fiddling uncomfortably and Snape standing, staring away from her. She isn't sure what to say, this time, and so she stays silent.

**A/N – This fic makes me so sad. I can't even… but I must soldier on. So sad…**


	4. 4

**4**

Severus doesn't want Hannah, this time, to see his expression.

He tried to stay blank and indifferent when she first told him – admitted that she'd been "outed" – that everyone now knew about something that she had obviously wanted to keep secret. And he can't help but…

He feels bad for the girl, certainly, but it isn't even just that. There's anger there, yes, that it had been his Slytherins that had done this to her – she hadn't deserved it – but then… Well, the thing making Severus Snape most keen to hide his emotions is that he was once one of those Slytherins.

He remembers walking, wandering the grounds moodily one evening, alone. That was no change, of course, especially since he had said _that_ to Lily, but that day had not been a good one, in any case. Mulciber had once again been teasing him about moping over a Mudblood, and Professor McGonagall had once again spent his Transfiguration lesson glaring at him, apparently feeling protective over her cubs…

It was all ridiculous, and unfair, and all Severus had wanted was to get away, so he had chucked some books into his bag and started going for a grumpy walk alone. Little as he had wanted to admit it, he had started to feel a little better even after those few minutes, but then, interrupting his lonely musings, he had come around a corner and found Black and the werewolf. Snogging.

At first, he had stood there, a bit shocked, and they had stared back at him, the werewolf's face blushing and Black's eyes hard, as if daring him to call them faggots or something. Severus had just stood there for a second more, staring at the two of them, and then he had bolted, back up to his Slytherin common room.

This was _perfect_, and it couldn't have come at a better time. Surely Lily wouldn't pick those two gays and their idiot friend Potter over him! He had to make sure everyone knew about this, _especially _her.

It was only a second before he collided with Regulus, and smirked. "Your brother's a fucking faggot, as well as a blood traitor," he spat at him and his friends, and felt more than satisfied when he heard Regulus splutter angrily and his friends start to laugh.

"He's no brother of mine!" Regulus yelled after Severus, but Severus continued to walk, smiling slightly for the first time in weeks.

It was three days (plus two hours and eleven minutes) before he saw Lily, and of course, everyone knew about Black and the werewolf by then. He tried to pretend that he hadn't seen her, waiting for her to call his name, and ask him to be her friend again, but as he approached her, he lost that choice as he saw the furious look on her voice.

Before he knew what was happening, she had grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall. Her wand was withdrawn, pointing at his throat, and Severus, little as he wanted to, gulped in fear. This wasn't what he had wanted, expected…

"You snivelling little bastard," Lily hissed, her eyes narrowed as she stared directly into his. "I know that it was you who told everyone about Remus and Sirius, and it's not a fucking good thing, alright? I don't know what you were trying to do, but all you've achieved is that Remus is sobbing in McGonagall's office right now and Sirius is hexing anyone that comes within ten metres of him. They're fucking messes thanks to you. Why would you do that?"

Severus stared at Lily for a second, his lips moving wordlessly. Then he managed to squeeze out a few words. "I thought you'd hate them," he said hoarsely.

Then, to his surprise, Lily had let go of him, pushing him against the wall as she did so. "I've known for months," she said disgustedly, staring at him with the utmost revulsion. "You idiot. I'm not going to abandon them just because they're two men and they're together."

And she turned to walk away. All he managed to call after her was "Lily!" but in any case, she didn't take any notice, and just carried on walking away from him, Severus, the prejudiced Slytherin…

The next day he saw the werewolf. He had seen him, actually, since Severus had found the two of them, but he had only smirked that time, aware of what was going to happen to that filthy creature in the next few days. The werewolf had apparently been unaware, though, and Severus had savoured that, like a little secret that belonged only to him.

But when he saw the werewolf – _Lupin, at least call him Lupin_ – after that confrontation with his Lily, he had felt much worse about the whole thing. Lupin's eyes were certainly red, and it seemed entirely probable that he had been sobbing the previous night with McGonagall. That wasn't something that anyone would have wanted to do – and Severus felt bad about having done that to the werew- to Lupin.

He wasn't even bothered by the fact that he was gay, he realised suddenly. What did it matter whether he was fucking Black or some girl? Severus didn't care – and he had pushed Lily away for something he didn't care about…

And now, of course, he's basically McGonagall, with a young Lupin in his office. That's a nice little bit of irony there, for him – and he can't help but feel choked up by the whole thing. Why has sweet little Hufflepuff Hannah come to see him, the snivelling bastard, when she could go and see someone honourable?

"I will have words with those Slytherins," is all he says to her, still facing away. "That is not acceptable behaviour."

_No, it isn't, is it? You hypocritical idiot…_

He's only slightly surprised when Hannah's little voice comes shakily from behind him. "No, Professor, it's alright," she says quietly. "It doesn't matter…"

_Yes, it does. How can you stand there, Severus, talking to her and letting her let those Slytherins off? Don't you see what you're doing, again? You coward._

He turns around to face her. "It matters a great deal, Miss Abbott," he says, and he has to restrain himself from being cold with her. It's not her fault, he reminds himself. "I will deal with it."

She looks away from him, but nods. "Thank you, Professor," she says softly, fiddling with the tissue in her hands, and, little as he thinks he deserves it, Severus feels a little bit warmer. At least, to some extent, he's making up for things.

It's weird, but now that Severus thinks about it, he doesn't think Lupin has even mentioned what Severus did to him at school, not to Severus or to any other member of staff. It's weird, but maybe Lupin has actually forgiven him, or maybe he just doesn't want to think about it. Severus was never punished for it at school, though, so presumably even then he hadn't told McGonagall who it was.

Severus knows he should be thankful, but somehow he can't bring himself to be.

He looks down at Hannah Abbott again, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Do you know how your friends feel about this, Miss Abbott?" he asks.

**A/N – Just to clarify, the bits in italics are Snape's thoughts. Incidentally, this fic makes me want to cry, which I don't really do, to be honest. I may die of sadness before I update this again, just to warn you.**


	5. 5

**5**

Hannah doesn't reply straight away.

She can tell that something's changed in the room, and she can tell that Professor Snape isn't quite as unconnected to the whole thing as before. She doesn't quite dare to ask him if he's alright, though – she knows that it wouldn't go down well, and anyway, it's not like he's crying or anything. It's easier to just let things be.

Hannah's about to answer her question when there's a knock at the door. She actually finds herself freezing, almost in fear – isn't it going to seem weird, her being in here, with Professor Snape, obviously having just cried her eyes out? She doesn't look at Professor Snape, as he sweeps across the room quickly to answer it. She doesn't want him to know that she's almost ashamed of being here.

She looks up at the door, though, because she can't help but be curious about who's there. To her slight surprise, Professor Lupin is standing there, grey-faced and tired-looking.

"Severus-" he begins weakly, but then he seems to catch sight of Hannah, fidgeting awkwardly behind her blush. "Hello, Hannah," he says, obviously quite surprised himself, but trying to sound cheerful. She mumbles a shy greeting in reply, and he looks back up to Professor Snape. "I need a word, Severus," he says, and Professor Snape follows him wordlessly into the corridor.

Alone in Professor Snape's office isn't really a place Hannah has ever expected to be, but she can't help but be more interested in what's going on in the corridor. Professor Lupin really doesn't look well, and probably that's why he was away from their lesson yesterday – but why is he coming to see Professor Snape? Why not Madam Pomfrey?

Hannah can't deny that she has a bit of a crush on Professor Lupin. He's kind – and sweet – and if it wasn't for him being ill, she would be in his office right now, telling him all about Luna and that kiss. It feels a bit weird to be thinking that – it feels weird to think that she wouldn't have come here, when it's all going so well.

But it gets her thinking, because, it's always been the nice people who Hannah has gravitated towards. Susan and Leanne, her best friends, they're both the kind, gentle types, and Ernie, her first kind-of-boyfriend is sweet even if he is rather pompous. And then, of course, there's the nice man standing outside in the corridor, well aware that she fancies him.

She remembers her first lesson with Professor Lupin. He had walked in, not shouting for quiet, like so many other teachers did, and then turned around and smiled at the class. For Hannah, that had been it, especially since he had made eye-contact with her – she had felt a little chill of attraction towards him, and had turned pink as she smiled back.

Then, as time had gone on, her feelings for him had just continued, even as she had expected to get over it. He's so charming – and so nice to her – and he didn't laugh that time he found her crying over her Transfiguration test. He had actually sat down on the step next to her, and offered to tell Professor McGonagall that she might need extra help.

It doesn't even matter that she's embarrassed herself about fourteen million times in front of him, and that some of the things were absolutely excruciating – that time she spilled ink all over herself and him, that time when her first _women's time_ started (she does _not_ want to think about that incident) and even that time that Meg basically told him that she fancied him – even after all of that, he's still treating her the same. There's something nice about that consistency.

She knows that if anything like that had happened in front of Professor Snape, he would have had many an unpleasant comment to make ("Stupid girl! Are you in control of your hands at all?") and many a smirk to give ("Miss Abbott, I suggest you go to the bathroom. As it is, you're bleeding all over my floor.") and many a piece of sarcasm to unload on her ("Well, well, Miss Abbott, I had no idea I was so irresistible.")

No, actually, enough with the imaginary scenarios – Snape has been horrible to her at times. She remembers last month how she'd been sitting with Neville and how Professor Snape had made some entirely unnecessary comments about inter-house bonding. Then, of course, there was the time he shouted at her for ten minutes when she accidentally threw a book at him (she had been aiming, playfully, for Susan), and then there was the time when he had given Neville a detention all because of that silly Boggart…

Hannah knows that she should dislike Snape strongly, but she can't help but find him more than tolerable. Not in _that_ way – Hannah's not sure anyone can be attracted to Professor Snape – but as a person. Every time she remembers something mean he's done, she can't help but remember being ill in first year, which should be such a small thing, but really isn't.

That's Hannah's problem, and she knows it. She trusts too easily – it only takes a smile, or a pat on the shoulder, or a tiny show of concern to make her like someone, and trust them. It's ridiculous – unhelpful – irrational, but Hannah can't help it. She doesn't want to think down on everyone. What's the point?

That being said, she knows that this trusting thing is probably why she's in this whole mess. Anyone else would have just calmly told Luna no, they hadn't seen any of her possessions, and wouldn't have gotten caught up in the whole messy affair. She would have gone and sat next to her when she'd started looking sad, and she wouldn't have been asked for a kiss, and she wouldn't have, for some reason, said yes…

And even when she had heard Pansy call her name when she had been walking with her Badgers, she hadn't thought it would be anything like that. Certainly, she had been obsessing over the kiss almost non-stop since her and Luna had heard Professor McGonagall coming around the corner and bolted, but it hadn't crossed her mind that perhaps Pansy had seen and was going to make fun of her. Even as Leanne had become suspicious and put her arm protectively around Hannah's shoulders, Hannah had just stayed innocently trusting. She didn't like Pansy, certainly, but she hadn't expected it to be anything like that.

She thinks back, then, to Professor Snape's question. Leanne, when she had heard, had withdrawn her arms swiftly – Ernie had turned red – Susan had looked so confused… But, as insecure as Hannah is, she kind of knows that those loyal Badgers are going to stick by her. She's almost certain that they were just shocked. After all, Hufflepuff is the accepting house. People don't judge, for the most part.

She thinks that, though, and then she remembers seeing all those smirking faces in the crowd. Some of them were Hufflepuffs – Zach, of course, and she thinks she even saw Cedric – but how is she supposed to know if they'll accept her? How will she know if they were just smirking, or if it's going to be more than that?

Hannah shakes her head slightly, wiping her eyes again with the matted piece of tissue. She can't, can't, can't think that she's going to be bullied. It'll just be too much if she tries to think about it – she _knows_ that those Slytherins aren't going to let this go – but she can't think about it, and so she tries to concentrate on something else, and once again starts to wonder what Professor Snape and Professor Lupin are doing in the corridor.

**A/N – I love Lupin so much. Like Hannah, I have to admit, I would fancy him so much if he was my DADA teacher. Also, Snape doing innuendo amuses me so terribly…**


	6. 6

**6**

Severus meets Lupin's eyes with determination.

He feels guilty, of course he does, but he isn't letting _Lupin _see it. He may feel bad about what's gone on, but he still doesn't like him, and he doesn't like the accusatory way Lupin's looking at him any better.

"Why is Hannah…?" Lupin asks him, sounding confused, staring with hard eyes, obviously protective of his little admirer. "What's happened?"

Severus sighs, but doesn't answer. "What do you want?" he asks, stiffly, politely, trying not to growl.

Lupin continues to look at him, but then answers his question. "I wondered if you had any more headache potion," he asks, even more politely than Severus had been, and Severus almost sighs.

That's how Lupin and Severus function, nowadays – politely, and having as little contact with each other as possible. Neither of them has forgiven the other for things that went on at school – not just the incident that Severus is currently feeling guilty about, but so many other little things that neither has ever really gotten over…

"Certainly," says Severus dully, moving around Lupin and into the Potions cupboard. He's concentrating on finding all the components to mix a potion for post-werewolf headaches when he hears a voice from the doorway.

"So, what has Hannah done for you to get her that upset?"

It's casually asked (though that casualness sounds forced), but Severus sighs, because he _knew_ that Lupin was going to think that. To be fair, he almost has a point – when has anyone ever cried in Severus' office without him having upset them? Perfect, kind, sensitive Lupin probably has girls crying in his office all the time, but Severus doesn't. It isn't the way he operates, and he's fine with that, because he knows what he's doing.

Having said that, his way of teaching, it does make him feel a bit… well, he saw how Hannah blushed when Lupin came in. You don't blush like that if you don't fancy someone – if you don't have one of those innocent, shy little crushes that you're trying to conceal – and while Severus has had students lusting after him, and even trying to seduce him, he's never had a girl blush like that when he's entered a room. You only get those blushes when you're kind, when you're trustworthy…

And he remembers how all the best teachers when he was at school came through for people. Professor Slughorn had tutored him in NEWT Potions and given him advice on romance – Professor McGonagall had taken him and his Lily into her office when he'd called her Mudblood – Professor Sprout had rubbed him on the back when he'd been being violently sick in the sink, having found out that his Lily was going to Hogsmeade with James fucking Potter…

When he had started teaching, he had wanted to be like that, despite why he had the job in the first place – but it had all disintegrated so quickly. He had taught them, and they had gotten the best grades they could, and he had even tutored one or two students on occasion – but that was as far as it usually went. He had ignored it when he had heard about the fourth year Slytherins jinxing an eleven year old Bill Weasley. He had given Nymphadora Tonks detention when she'd tried to help her friend and ignored his instructions in doing so, and he had just shoved Hestia Jones over the sink when she'd had morning sickness in his lesson.

And Severus _knew_ that he had kindness in there somewhere, because every so often it came out, even if it was so rare, and such small pieces of kindness. Taking care of that same Nymphadora Tonks when she'd had far too much to drink, giving Pansy a detention for taunting Ginny Weasley, helping Hannah Abbott when she'd been ill in first year…

Maybe it is the first time that this has happened, but it doesn't matter. Maybe Severus isn't used to it, isn't used to being kind, but _it doesn't matter, _because Hannah Abbott has come to him for help, and he isn't going to turn her away. Why she's come to him is a mystery, but she has, and he's going to help her – and he isn't going to let perfect Lupin take that away from him.

He turns around and regards Lupin with cold eyes. "Miss Abbott hasn't done anything," he says stiffly, but then pauses, wondering how to phrase it. "She was distressed," he says shortly, at last. "She wished to see me."

He sees Lupin's eyebrows raise in surprise before he has a chance to control himself. "Oh," says Lupin, sounding a little confused, but then he too pauses, on the verge of saying something else. "Do you… do you want me to look after her?"

Severus almost snorts.

How is it that perfect Lupin thinks he can cope better than Severus, who has been teaching for twelve years, when he's been a teacher for all of five minutes? And Severus knows, what with all that's happened, he should be feeling guilty and trying to be nice to Lupin, especially since Lupin was never _really_ one of Potter's bullies, but he just can't bring himself to feel bad. The man is too infuriating.

Severus shakes his head and returns to his task – finding the potions to give to Lupin. He hopes that Lupin will leave him alone – but before he's even finished the thought, Lupin speaks again. "Out of interest, Severus," he says mildly. "What is it that's upset Hannah so much?"

He doesn't turn around this time, determined not to show Lupin that he's blanched at the thought of having to answer that question. Maybe Lupin _is_ infuriating, but Severus realises now, especially after having a hysterical Hannah in his office, that he didn't deserve that – and he knows that Lupin knows he didn't deserve that. Far be it for Severus to shy away from taking the punishment he deserves, but…

"I hardly think it's appropriate for me to betray her confidence," he says coldly, almost sneering, but it's no use, because even though Severus can't see Lupin's face, he can tell from his next words that he's frowning in puzzlement.

He doesn't say anything for a minute, but then – "I'm standing in for Professor Sprout while she deals with this first year mess," he says, slowly, seeming confused about having to justify himself, apparently aware that Severus doesn't give a fuck about Hannah's confidences. "If it's something serious-"

"It isn't," Severus interrupts him, managing to sound sharp and bored at the same time, cutting through his self-satisfied monologue. Severus is a good actor, he isn't going to let Lupin see that his hands are now shaking slightly and that his lips are clenched firmly together with fear at having to tell him.

Lupin now seems inclined to snort too. "She looked pretty upset, Severus," he starts, almost sarcastically, but stops talking when Severus spins around to face him, taking deep breaths. He can't argue with Lupin any longer.

"She-" says Severus, but then almost interrupts himself. He isn't looking at Lupin, but he's still afraid and ashamed. "It seems that she's… being unexpectedly teased," he says slowly, carefully, leaving emotion out of it as much as possible. "About… her sexuality."

There, he's said it, and in the most professional way possible, and he's a coward, and why can't he just _apologise_ to Lupin, now (_just do it_), why can't he just stop pretending that it didn't happen, that it wasn't his fault (_you coward_)or at least do him the courtesy of meeting his eyes…

Internally steadying himself, he slowly does so, raising his eyes with as little emotion as possible, even though inside he's feeling as small as he knows he should. Of course, fairly, unsurprisingly, Lupin's eyes are cold and stare at him without any trace of kindness there, now.

"Do you think you're the best person to deal with that?" he says slowly, coldly, harshly, and Severus knows he isn't meant to answer. Handing Lupin the three bottles that he'll need, he starts to sweep out, back to the safety of his office, back to sweet Hannah and her trusting ways, when a voice again comes from behind him –

"I hadn't even told my parents yet."

_Oh, Merlin._

Severus allows himself to close his eyes for a second, and then he slowly turns back around to look at Lupin, who's now staring at him even more harshly, his eyes almost blank. This is completely out of character for Lupin, for mild, for gentle, for let-things-be Lupin, and Severus can't help but feel sorry for him.

"Sirius had told his," he says, more softly, sounding hollow, as he sits down on the straight-backed wooden chair that's in the Potions cupboard. "Well, he hadn't told them, but they knew. They'd been reading our letters, and then they'd tried to _cure him_." Lupin spits the last few words, staring down at the bottles in his hands, but then he takes a deep breath, apparently trying to calm himself. "My parents… I had to tell them by letter," he continues quietly. "And they took days to reply. Normally they'd reply to a letter from me within hours."

"I'm sorry," Severus almost whispers, awkwardly, unhappily, but Lupin ignores him.

"And James and Peter were even weird about it at first," he says, and it sounds like he's talking to himself now. "Sirius was so sick of being judged that he just hexed everyone. Lily was my only friend. She already knew. She didn't even care."

_That sounds like my Lily._

"Then I heard Mary talking about it, Mary who had always been my friend, gossiping about me and Sirius behind our backs, and it all got too much… I ended up sobbing hysterically in McGonagall's office. Rather like Hannah, I suppose," he finishes, laughing hollowly, and Severus has to look away, not wanting to look at this man in front of him.

It's then that he remembers, because he's lost Lily, who was his everything, but this man has literally lost everything. His best friends are dead, his boyfriend's in Azkaban, he hasn't got a hope in the world of anyone else, or even a real job if he loses this one… and he's sitting there, talking about what Severus did to him, how Severus hurt him, as if nothing's happened, as if no time has gone by…

"I'm sorry," repeats Severus, louder this time, and this time Lupin looks up at him, looking more tired than ever.

"It's alright," he says, not looking at Severus as he pulls himself up from the chair and starts to leave the room. "Tell Hannah she can talk to me if she needs," he says, sounding more hollow than ever, turning briefly back to look at Severus before he lets the door swing shut and Severus is alone.


	7. 7

**7**

Remus Lupin hasn't felt this angry in a long time.

He's never quite gotten over Severus –_ Snivellus_ doing that to him and Padfoot. To his Padfoot – to the two of them – when they hadn't even done anything wrong. They hadn't done anything wrong, and he had caused all of that… all of that…

That year, that year had been the _best_. His best friends were finally able to help him through his transformations – he had made a new best friend in Lily – all his schoolwork was going well, and then, and then, and then, apart from the lovely but mundane, there had been Sirius. _His _Sirius.

He remembers their first kiss well. Of course he does. He remembers how Sirius had just come bounding in one day, that weird, slightly nervous look on his face, and just pounced on him, and though Remus hadn't expected it, hadn't expected it at all, he had certainly enjoyed it. Before he had known what was happening, he had found himself kissing Sirius – his best friend – kissing _his_ Padfoot.

He had felt a little ashamed that he had never noticed that Sirius fancied him. But, actually, then again – he hadn't even known that Sirius was gay. Certainly, after that exceedingly short relationship with Marlene McKinnon, he hadn't shown any interest in girls – but Remus had assumed at first that he was just heartbroken, and then he had just stopped noticing. It had just become part of Sirius.

Of course, Sirius knew that he was bisexual. Remus had told him – it had been difficult, and he hadn't even told his parents yet, but he had told him, and James, and Peter. He had waited until they were all alone in the common room, and then…

"I have to tell you all something," he had blurted out, feeling his cheeks redden already as they all looked at him curiously. He wasn't quite sure how to say this, but knew that he had to.

"Yes?" James had prompted, sounding a mixture of impatient and amused, and Remus had taken a deep breath.

"I play for both teams," he had mumbled, tentatively, preferring to use a euphemism than the harsh word "bisexual." It sounded nicer – and he had rehearsed this – but it sounded nice, like he was just being fair. After all, he did have Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw friends as well as Gryffindor.

Then, a short silence, as Remus had stared, tense, at his lap, and James had considered, and Peter had waited to see what the others would say, and Sirius hadn't done much at all. Remus had been just about to explode when James had finally spoken.

"Alright," he had said firmly, as if trying to make sure there was no doubt about his support. "That's fine. I can live with that."

And, as Remus had looked up, Peter was nodding in agreement, and Sirius was grinning at him – more shyly than normal, and with something there that Remus couldn't quite fathom, but still grinning. Remus had let out a huge sigh of relief, and that had been it. They accepted him. It was all fine.

"I still play for Gryffindor, though," James had warned him jokingly, and Remus had smiled.

He had been amazed at how easy it was, and how easy they had made the whole things. He knows that in Slytherin, and probably even Ravenclaw, there would have been none of that acceptance. Maybe a grudging kind of tolerance at best, but certainly none of that acceptance…

Sirius had been his first boy kiss. That's something he can't get away from, because despite the sudden and surprising way in which it happened, it had been special. It had to be special, because Sirius was the first boy he had ever kissed.

The first girl – and he's never admitted this to anyone – had been kind of an experiment – well, not an experiment, as such, but certainly not romantic, or even passionate. It had been with Mary, his friend Mary, because she had been upset about that Ravenclaw boy still not liking her. They had been sitting, chatting, and she had suddenly asked him to _practice_ with her.

He had said yes, and then slightly regretted it.

But there had been no regret with Sirius – there had been no time for regret. Just that pounce – that sudden, explosive snog – and then when it had finished, Remus had actually ended up slightly out-of-breath. "Wow, Padfoot," he had muttered, a small smile on his face. "You could have given me some warning."

Sirius had just shrugged. "Sorry."

"I'm not complaining," Remus had quickly assured him. "You just, you know, could have mentioned that you're gay, and stuff."

Sirius had just grinned at him. "I can't help it if I fancy the dick, Remus," he had said cheerfully, and then let out one of those Padfoot-esque laughs.

And then, after that day, the Marauder's Map had suddenly had whole new uses – instead of just checking where McGonagall was so that they could play tricks on the Slytherins, he and Sirius used it to check where James and Peter were, so that they could go and have their little dates – not just kissing, but proper kind of dates, with talking and hand holding, and all of that. Remus had known, in his heart of hearts, even then, that James and Peter would find them dating weird, despite how accepting they had been.

He had wanted to tell them himself, with Sirius, and do it in a place where everyone could stay calm. He certainly hadn't wanted a smirking Mulciber to make a very loud joke about it in the middle of the Great Hall, and for James and Peter to be staring at them with so much confusion, and for Sirius to grab Mulciber and start punching him to within an inch of his life…

It had become clear, then, that _everyone_ knew. Remus had noticed the odd looks in the corridor, but hadn't thought of it as anything – he was always getting odd looks – but now he understood. It wasn't just "oh, look, there's that weird, slightly geeky boy who's one of James' friends," any more – it was "oh, look, there's that faggot."

And he knew that Severus was responsible instantly. He was the only one who had found out by accident, and, frankly, the only one who would do this. It was Snivellus, and Remus had suddenly regretted not joining in with James' teasing of him.

But… how can he still think of this tiny incident with so much pain? So much as happened since then – everyone's dead – Severus is one of the good guys – and, just a small thing, that his boyfriend Sirius was a traitorous bastard.

He wasn't his Padfoot after all, the gentle, cheerful, brave Padfoot that he had thought he'd known. He was this _murderer_ – and it hadn't even been a Death Eater. That bastard, that bastard, that _bastard_ who he had just been thinking about – remembering his dates with – he had killed Peter, sweet, slightly awkward Peter, and he had as good as killed Lily and James…

Remus can't… he almost can't believe that it was really Padfoot. He knows it was – he knows that he didn't know Padfoot – he knows that Padfoot was really a murderous bastard who doesn't even deserve to be remembered. But he can't understand… he can't understand why he would do it.

Sirius loved James. Not in the same way he had loved Remus – but like a brother. He had loved James more than Regulus, by a long way, and then he had lived with him. After all of that, how could he have…? And even Lily, whom Sirius had always resented, was like a sister. Sirius had been at their _wedding_. He had been _best man_.

And Remus was safe – but in a way, he had hurt Remus the most, because Remus is the only one left. Alone – so alone – no family, or friends, or love. All alone, and it's all that bastard, that bastard, that bastard who Remus thought had loved him…

Then why is he still angry at Severus? It's all in the past – and it was so long ago – and his boyfriend's a murderer. Severus hasn't exactly given him a reason to forgive him, what with how horrible he's been to Remus this year, but it was so long ago. They should be past that, by now.

He isn't, though, and when he had heard what Hannah was doing in Severus' office, he had felt angrier than he had done in a long time. He likes Hannah, though it's a little awkward since it's so obvious that she fancies him, but in any case, she's a sweet girl, and she doesn't deserve that.

He wishes that this could have happened before the full moon this month. Then he could have been the one to help – to guide her through it – to punish the ones responsible. Not Severus – not Severus, who was one of the ones, or might as well have been. It's not fair.

Remus continues to walk up to his office trying as hard as he can not to show the random students in the corridor either how ill he is, or how upset. You're not supposed to show weakness in front of them – they're supposed to trust him – how can they do that if he wanders around looking like a decrepit old woman?

As soon as the door is closed, however, he finds himself letting it all out. Remus has never been good at that – he saves strong emotions for the full moon – but none of this is in any way fair, and it's supposed to have changed. It's not still supposed to be Snivellus getting off scot-free because he can cry the loudest and Remus, little, repressed Remus, getting left alone again.

He kicks the office chairs over and sweeps books off his desk. He behaves like a petulant toddler, and throws a tantrum, but he can't help it. He needs to let it all out, because it isn't supposed to hurt this much.

**A/N – I couldn't leave Remus behind so soon. I think probably the next chapter will be Hannah again – anyone have any opinions on that? **


	8. 8

**8**

Hannah's practically twiddling her thumbs by the time Professor Snape returns.

He comes sweeping back in a way that would be over dramatic in anyone other than Professor Snape. He looks, though, like he's furiously trying to hold back some kind of emotion, and it looks like it's taking all his strength.

"I apologise, Miss Abbott," he says as he returns back his desk, his face hidden from her, that note of coldness creeping back into his voice. "Professor Lupin required a potion from me."

Hannah nods quickly. She can kind of tell that that's not all of it – that there's something else to it – but she daren't try to ask him in any way, or even just ask if he's alright. He may have been being exceptionally nice to her, but he _is_ still Professor Snape, and, in any case, he looks like he's about to become far less tolerant.

She starts to feel like she's in trouble as Professor Snape regards her coldly across his desk. She's just starting to think that maybe he wants her to leave – that maybe she should make her excuses and run – but just as she's about to, Professor Snape starts to speak instead, his tone far less pleasant that it was before.

"The names of those teasing you, please," he says coldly, calmly, irritably.

Hannah hesitates. She doesn't want Pansy, Daphne and Draco and everyone to get off, not by any means – but she doesn't want to make things any worse, either. That's not even the real problem, though – what's really throwing her is that she doesn't know where any of this is suddenly coming from. Certainly, when she'd told him what had happened, he had said something about sorting it out, and had referenced that he would need the names – but then he had let it go, and moved on.

She hesitates a moment longer, looking uncertainly at Professor Snape, trying to work out where all of this has come from – but then Professor Snape's cold look turns to a glare.

"Now, Miss Abbott," he says sharply, and Hannah has to look away.

She still doesn't say anything, but starts to feel more uncomfortable by the second. She doesn't know what to do – and she doesn't want to be pushed like this – and she's starting to doubt the good heart - and Hannah can't help but wonder if she was wrong to try and trust Professor Snape.

She once again considers leaving, but somehow she just can't. Something is definitely going on here – and while Hannah seriously doubts that he's going to get over it any time soon, she doesn't want to just leave. It doesn't seem fair, somehow, and she's hoping furiously that he'll just drop it.

It is confusing, though, because _where_ has this change suddenly come from? He was being _nice, _and it was nice that he was being nice, especially because he's Professor Snape and he's so rarely nice. It felt special – like he actually gave a fuck about you – and with a partially absent dad who likes her sister better, that's not something Hannah feels about a man very often.

Suddenly, Professor Snape speaks, shaking her out of her nervous thoughts, and she really can't look at him now. "I asked you a question," he says, his voice lowering to dangerous. "This isn't the time to be _shy_, Miss Abbott, you know as well as I do that these people deserve to be punished for what they've done. Now, tell me who it was."

Hannah feels tears start to well up in her eyes, though she should be empty of tears by this point – and then it's painfully obvious as she speaks that she's about four seconds away from bawling. "Don't shout at me," she says, with a quiet kind of anger.

Professor Snape merely sneers, and moves his head closer hers in what seems like contempt. "I'll shout if I want, Miss Abbott," he snarls, and Hannah bites her lips as a few tears come dribbling out against her will. "Now, do you want to tell me who was teasing you, or do you want to leave my office?"

And though Hannah's almost certain that he doesn't mean it seriously, that he's being facetious and sarcastic and mocking – but she does it anyway, and jumps up from her chair, knocking it over, sobs starting to come, and leaves his office. She ignores the surprised and irritated shout of her name after her as she hurtles into the corridor, continuing to sob, regretting ever having gone down to the dungeons.

She should have known it was a bad idea. She should have known it was a _terrible_ idea. She should have known that it would all end like this, with her crying, alone, not safe in the slightest, and back exactly where she started, except that now Professor Snape is going to hate her as much as he hates Neville.

She knows, though, that she shouldn't have just left like that, and not even just because of how mad Professor Snape is going to be. He was trying to help – and maybe he was being a dick – but he was trying to help. She shouldn't have left – but she can't go back now.

Hannah isn't paying attention to where she's going, and so it isn't a great surprise when she comes around a corner and bangs straight into someone. "Sorry," she mumbles, not looking at the person as she tries to move around them, but before she has a chance to make a quick getaway, a harsh voice she recognises comes from the other half of the collision.

"Look who it is."

_Pansy Parkinson._

_Fuck._

Hannah freezes, unsure what exactly to do. She could continue walking, pretending she doesn't care – she could hex her – she could look her in the eye and tell her to just bloody leave her alone…

Hannah looks up, hurriedly wiping her tears away as she does so, and isn't surprised to see Tracey and Daphne accompanying Pansy, their eyes all harsh and their smiles more than a little bit evil. "Looking for your girlfriend?" asks Pansy, before Hannah can say anything, the sneer on her face becoming more pronounced with every word.

Hannah feels her face colour, though she knows it shouldn't, and she wants more than anything to just walk away now, because she can't handle this, but they're blocking the corridor and she can't get past them – what does she do? Why doesn't she know what to do?

She doesn't say anything as Pansy laughs softly, and only flinches when Pansy whispers a stream of filth into her ear. She wishes more than anything now that she had just told Professor Snape who it was – because it could not be worse than this.

Just as she's thinking this, though, Pansy seems to read her mind, and Hannah sees her expression change to one of suspicion out of the corner of her eye. "What are you even doing down here?" Pansy asks, her eyes narrowed, still far too close to Hannah for comfort. "Your skanky badger hole is over the other side of the castle. Why are you here?"

_Oh, fuck – please don't work it out – Merlin, why aren't I in my skanky badger hole? Fuck – fuck – fuck - don't stand so close to me, I can't handle this-_

It's just as this last thought comes tumbling frantically through Hannah's brain that Pansy starts to speak again. "You've been _telling_ on us, haven't you?" she says sharply, reaching out to push Hannah, and then –

"Ow!"

Hannah takes a deep breath in as Pansy recoils from her, her hand having been burnt from trying to touch Hannah, and while Hannah's glad to know that her magic is still working, that her instinctive magic isn't losing it's touch, but she doesn't like the way that Pansy's looking at her, and she doesn't like the way that she's slowly taking her wand out from her pocket, and she doesn't like the way that Daphne is smiling, apparently aware of what is going to happen…

But before Hannah knows what is happening, Pansy's cast whatever spell she's going to, and she's thrown back against the wall. It hurts – _Oh, Merlin, what's happened to my leg? – _but she doesn't know what she's done, and Pansy's standing over as because she's collapsed on the floor now, and Pansy's saying all these things that Hannah doesn't want to hear – s_top it, stop it, stop it –_ and she's talking about Hannah, and she's calling her all these names, and she's talking about Susan, and she's talking about Leanne, and she's talking about Luna –

Hannah feels the magic inside her give one final push, but she feels weaker than ever, and Pansy barely seems to feel it, leaning back from Hannah and starting to smile. "Fine," she says, almost laughing. "We'll be off, then."

_No, no, don't be off – don't leave me – I can't move from here…_

But it isn't any _use_ because Pansy's gone before Hannah can speak, and she's starting to sob again now, and there's so much pain, and it hurts so much, and all she wants is someone to rescue her – but that ship has now sailed, and, really, that's all Hannah's fault.

**A/N – No one seems to want to review this any more…**


	9. 9

**9**

Severus doesn't know why he did that.

It had been going so well. He had been a good teacher, for about five minutes – he hadn't shouted at her, or bullied her, or been sarcastic with her. Then, of course, he does all three of those things in the space of about a minute.

Severus sighs, looking at the door that has just swung closed as Hannah Abbott ran out of his office in tears. Maybe this was inevitable – maybe trying to be the nice guy was never going to work for a man like Severus – maybe he would have been better to just let Lupin take her – but it doesn't matter. It's still his fault.

And he knows that, but still there's this little voice in the back of his head that's telling him that it's her fault. He was trying to help, and maybe he was being a bit sharp, but Hannah should have expected that coming to him. He isn't kind, and gentle. He just isn't.

Having said that, he does know that he should have been more sensitive. That hadn't been the schoolboy Severus who had been bullied by James Potter who had been talking then – that had been the bully Severus who had outed Remus Lupin, and called Lily Evans a Mudblood.

And he doesn't like that Severus, but he just can't help but be him, sometimes – and he just wanted so much for those little bastards who had done that to Hannah to be punished. Of course he does. He wishes that he had been punished, now.

Pointing his wand at the door to lock it, he sits down at his desk, sighing angrily and massaging his temples. This is much more stressful than the usual Wednesday night, where he reads his newspaper or Potions books alone – and though he knows he should just let it go, he can't quite stop thinking about how crap he is at teaching. Ignoring the noises that sound like shouting outside - _probably just some silly little Gryffindors, _he thinks irritably – he finds himself pacing his office, trying furiously to think of some viable course of action. There has to be a way to fix this – and there has to be a way for him to negate the bad that he's just done.

It's at this moment, however, that he realises something.

His heart sinks – or, more accurately, crashes – when he realises that he's going to have to notify her head of house that she came to see him, distressed, and then absconded - and while it would be bad enough to watch Pomona stare at him confused and then have her tell him off in that brisk voice, it just makes it worse that there's currently someone standing in for her while she deals with this mess with the First Years. It would be bad if it was Dumbledore– it would be worse if it was Minerva – but, frankly, it's just Severus' luck that Hannah's head of house for the next few days is Remus Lupin.

He's going to be mortified, and it's more than likely that he and Lupin are going to get into an exhausting fight about the whole thing – Lupin certainly won't believe that he feels as bad about it as he does – but he has Hannah's safety, and his own job to think about, and so, gritting his teeth, he stands up and sweeps out of his office, locking the door firmly behind him.

He once again ignores the sounds of shouting from a corridor somewhere nearby, though he can tell from this distance that it's Pansy Parkinson – but since she's a resident trouble maker, he ignores it, and continues to walk. It's probably just some silly joke between her and her friends or some argument about who gets to snog Draco this month.

Sure enough, the shouting soon dies down. Severus can't see anyone, not even an irate Pansy, and so, he continues to walk, as calmly as he can, down the corridor, towards Lupin's office – that is, until he hears the sound of sobbing coming from around the corner and stops.

He takes a deep breath as he sweeps towards the corner and rounds it – he needs to mentally prepare himself for what's coming, but he doesn't get much time - he's barely around when the corner when he sees a third year girl collapsed against the wall, one leg outstretched, sobbing, her normally neat hair falling all over her face. She looks broken, and lost, and a small part of Severus just wants to heal her – but he has to keep it together.

He sweeps over to her and stands expectantly, his presence looming over her. When she doesn't acknowledge him, however, he speaks. "Get up," he says coldly, his voice harsh, and she flinches as it comes down on her – but she doesn't move, she doesn't get up, and she doesn't let him see her face. She just wordlessly shakes her head, letting those deep sobs continue to come.

He glares at her, making sure that she knows it isn't acceptable to disobey him in this way – but then he notices the way that she's holding her leg. That isn't normal, and Severus may not be a Healer, but he can tell when someone's in pain, and it quickly becomes clear that Hannah is indeed in pain.

"Are you hurt?" he asks sharply, making sure not to let his voice get too soft. She may be hurt, she may be upset – but she can't disrespect him like that, especially considering that _he was trying to help her_.

Hannah nods quickly, urgently, seeming barely to have a sense of herself and her surroundings. "My leg," she tells him, her voice breaking and punctuated him sobs, the little of her face that he can see deathly pale. "It hurts…"

She descends quickly back into hysteria, then, and Severus sighs irritably, more for her benefit than for his. This is not what he expected – and he's still sighing, reaching down to pull her up by the arm when –

"Ow!"

He stands there for a second, staring at Hannah and then at his slightly burnt hand. That kind of magic isn't what Severus expects from that kind of gentle, sweet girl like her – and he feels suddenly ashamed, because he knows that wouldn't have happened had he not crossed a barrier.

Quickly tapping his hand with his wand and hiding the shame, he thinks carefully about his next words. He can't help her if she won't let him – but he can't, by any means, leave her here, hurt and hysterical. "Would you rather I fetched a female teacher?" he asks slowly, calmly, watching her carefully.

Severus almost snorts, because they both know perfectly well that that isn't what Severus means. It's an easier way of phrasing it, though, hiding his real meaning under the guise of propriety and the awkward male-teacher-female-student relationship – and it's easier than asking if she wants him to fetch another teacher who hasn't just distressed her so much that she ran from his office and ended up hurting herself, when she'd come to them for help.

He watches as Hannah takes a huge breath, the accidental magic seeming to have cleared her head a little bit, though she's clearly still in a lot of pain. She seems just as ashamed as him, apparently for having used magic against him at all. "No," she whispers quietly at last, and Severus nearly cries.

How is it possible that she's so trusting? He's just hurt her – and he's just upset her – and maybe she's just hurt him back, but not half as much, because his hand's fine, now – and he's just been an absolute bastard to her. How, how, how can she still trust him after all that?

He nods once, shortly, turning his face away from her as he regains his composure. Still, he's glad all the same, though he doesn't quite dare to touch her again to help her up and instead conjures up a pair of crutches and watches as she struggles to pull herself up with them. She's still shivering, still breathing shakily and heavily, but she manages to lean on them, her hair falling over her face, and stands.

She manages a few shaky steps with Severus still watching, and he can't help but be stricken with just how pale her face is. He wonders for a second if it would be better for her to just lean on him – but somehow that doesn't seem like much of an option at the moment, and so he moves to walk at her side as she struggles along.

It doesn't help with the guilt that he's almost certain that he knows what's happened to her – not the specifics, maybe, but he knows that someone has done this to her. Of course, had she cooperated before and told him who the bullies were, this never would have happened – but had he not been so sharp with her, she would have, in all likeliness, cooperated.

He should have thought back to how he had felt, when James Potter had done that kind of thing. He had spent his fair share of time in McGonagall's office, scowling and trying to convince her that those injuries were just accidents. He should have thought back to that, and thought back to how all the times when he'd come closest to telling her was when she was being nice…

He's interrupted from his thoughts when he hears a small, quickly muffled groan from Hannah beside him. It's becoming clear by this point that she is in a lot of pain, and he's close to stopping her and asking how he can help - but before he can (and he's barely surprised by this) she takes a shaky step sideways, half-collapses against the wall, and empties her stomach against the cold stone.

Severus flinches. Still, it doesn't much bother him – after all this time as a teacher, he's used to teenage vomit – and he just silently brings out his wand and cleans it up with one flick, watching as she closes her eyes and wipes a hand across her mouth, looking shakier than ever. This isn't good.

"Sorry," she whispers tearfully, not meeting his eyes as she continues to lean against the wall, keeping her weight off the injured leg. "I didn't mean to…"

She trails off, wiping her hair off of her face, and Severus shakes his head at her. "It isn't a problem," he says shortly, unwilling to show her just how concerned he is and panic her. This is more than pain – there's pain, certainly, but this is more than just an injury, he's sure of it.

It's becoming increasingly clear to Severus that she isn't going to make it anywhere near to the Hospital Wing while she's in this state – and she's going to have to be treated somewhere closer. Somewhere like his office.

Severus sighs, and hands Hannah his handkerchief to wipe her mouth properly. "Thank you," she mumbles, starting to pull herself up again. He can't help but feel glad, somehow, that she's dropped the "professor," from her address of him – maybe she's not quite in her right state, at the moment, but Severus is increasingly feeling that he doesn't deserve those kinds of tags in any case.

It's a few seconds before she's standing again, Severus having retrieved her crutches for her, and starts to walk again. He sets the pace slower, this time – maybe it'll take longer for them to reach his office, but he's sure that it'll be better for her to go slower. The last thing he wants now is to make her any worse.

Still, she has a sort of grim determination on her face, now, though she still looks rather like she might collapse at any moment, and tears are still clearly being held back. A part of him wants to tell her not to bother – to just let it out – but, again, he isn't sure that it's the best idea to do anything that might panic her. Though things like this are far more in his comfort zone, he still doesn't really know what to do with a girl like Hannah Abbott.

**A/N – Wow, that was a long chapter… Also, thank you very much to all the people who reviewed the last chapter, they really made my day!**


	10. 10

**10**

Hannah feels safer, here.

Unfortunately, though, safer doesn't mean completely safe, and it doesn't mean that she isn't still in a lot of pain. Hannah thinks that maybe this is the most that she's ever hurt – and it's so strong that it's making her feel dizzy, and just generally not quite there.

She doesn't know what Pansy's done to her, but she knows that it's something bad.

And it doesn't help that she can still has that horrible taste in her mouth from being sick and that she can still smell it, though she's quite not sure where from. Hannah hates that thought, but as much as she tries to push it away, she just keeps thinking about it, and it makes her squirm.

However, they've only been in Professor Snape's office for a minute or so when he seems to read Hannah's mind. He turns around from what he is doing, handing her a plastic cup full of water. "Rinse out your mouth," he tells her directly, turning his back on her again, and Hannah can't help but feel glad, even through the pain. "It will make you feel better."

"Thank you," Hannah mumbles feebly, for what seems like the millionth time that evening, and does so. He's right – it does make her feel marginally better, and any change for the better is good on a night like this.

He nods once, but doesn't acknowledge Hannah any more, and Hannah wonders hazily what he's actually doing. He seems to be mixing some kind of potion together, from the looks of things, and Hannah can only assume that it's to help her leg. She hopes it is. Whatever else Professor Snape might be, everyone knows that they can trust him when it comes to potions.

She hopes as well that he'll hurry up, because she really is in a lot of pain. Sitting with her back against the wall and her leg propped up on the stone bench, she certainly feels better than she did walking, but still not exactly brilliant.

She has to think back to the walk to keep her mind of off the pain, because it's the only thing that will distract her at the moment. She thinks about how much walking like that hurt, and how exhausting the crutches were – she thinks about nearly falling, and she thinks about being determined – and then she thinks about being found, and burning Professor Snape.

It's difficult – but she can't remember _exactly_ what happened. It's all a bit blurry – and there are just some things that don't quite fit. She remembers Pansy, though she's trying not to think about that at the moment – but after that, it's all a bit blurry. Actually, come to think of it, she's not even completely sure how long she was sitting there.

All she remembers is hearing Professor Snape's voice, and then having him looming over her, glaring down at her, and she knew she must have done something – but she couldn't quite remember what it was – and then, when he tried to touch her, she burned him, just like she had done with Pansy. With the enemy.

But he can't be the enemy, because he's being kind to her, and because he helped her get back here. And she trusts him – and she remembers _now_ that he had shouted at her, and scared her and made her cry – but she didn't at the time, and she still trusted him. A normal Hannah thing, perhaps, but she has a feeling that it's more than that, and that she really should be trusting Professor Snape.

She continues to watch him as he continues to mix some kind of potion on the stone surface, and she's struck by how he's working so quickly. That can't be right… he can't be going that quickly…

It starts to make her feel dizzy, though, so she leans back against the cold wall again, leaning her hot forehead against it with relief, only managing to pull a sweaty hand to her forehead to push her equally sweaty hair away. Exhausted, she sort of, kind of, maybe wants to go to sleep… but it doesn't happen, and she shifts around awkwardly, groaning ever so slightly as she accidentally leans on her injured leg.

She's astonished at how quickly Professor Snape spins around, his cloak billowing, when he hears her tiny little noise of pain. She tries to smile at him, to reassure him, but he doesn't return it. "Are you alright?" he says sharply – and for once, Hannah doesn't feel worried or annoyed by his sharpness, because she can tell that it's just because he wants a quick, and honest answer from her.

"Yes," she says softly, leaning against the wall, feeling completely drained. That's not completely honest, perhaps, but that's what you're supposed to say when someone asks you if you're alright. Besides, it's not as if she feels any worse than she did a minute ago.

Hannah catches a small frown on his face, but he quickly returns to the potion, and Hannah looks away again. She tries to think of something to concentrate on, again, now that she's exhausted her memory of the corridor – but the only thing that comes to mind is Luna, and that's not something she wants to think about right now.

Still, wherever she tries to push her confused mind, it just keeps coming swimming back to those big grey eyes, to that tangled hair… and it's not too long before Hannah gives in, and lets it.

She finds herself imagining what it would have been like had she met Luna in the corridor, instead of Pansy. She finds herself thinking of how Luna would look at her, with those eyes, and be vaguely cheerful until she sees that Hannah's been crying. Then it would be Luna's turn to be the comforter of the pairing – it wouldn't be Hannah with her arm around Luna any more – and Hannah finds herself imagining it all so clearly.

She would lean her head on Luna's shoulder, just as Luna had done to her, and Luna would kiss the top of Hannah's head. Hannah would smile, and like it, in spite of everything, and then they would lean back against the cold stone wall of the dungeons. Luna would look at Hannah, and tells her that she shouldn't care what people think about her. After all, she doesn't, and she's fine.

It's nice, and when Pansy comes, she just smirks – she doesn't bother to say anything to the two of them, because she knows that Luna is a far stronger person than Pansy will ever be, in spite of her eccentricities. The people who tease Luna only do it in secret – no one could ever dare to openly tease Luna to her face.

At least, Hannah doesn't think so, and she smiles. This is a nice thought… maybe it shouldn't be, but it is… and it could have happened, even if it hasn't. It's nice.

She's suddenly shaken out of her daydream by a voice, now not entirely cold, from the other side of the room. "This should cure you, Miss Abbott," says Professor Snape, watching her carefully as he approaches with a goblet full of potion. She nods, reaching out to take it willingly, just wanting to feel better – but then Professor Snape hesitates.

"I should warn you…" he says slowly, looking at her with something she can't quite fathom. "It contains Veritaserum. It is the only thing that will cure your fever right now."

Hannah nods. She can't quite understand what the problem is – but whatever it is, it can't be a large one. Veritaserum means something, somewhere in the back of her mind – but it can't be too much of a problem, Hannah's sure.

**A/N – So, that was a much shorter chapter! Just as an interesting piece of knowledge for you, the bit with Luna is a contraction of the original, much less depressing, draft of Chapter 8…**


	11. 11

**11**

Severus feels bad about this, but he knows it's the right thing to do.

Still, it would be easier to do it if she wasn't so immensely trusting. She didn't even falter as he held out the glass to her, didn't stop to ask him what was in it – and then, when he'd felt he had to confess to the Veritaserum's presence, at least, it hadn't bothered her. She had just taken the glass from him, assuming that he was telling the truth.

That's not to say he's forgetting the..._ incident_ with the burning - but even that little show of the anger that Hannah seems to have been keeping inside can't take away from how trusting she's being again now. She's still not right, exactly, to be fair, and he can tell that the nasty fever someone's left her with is messing with her head – but it's almost as if the fever's making her more honest.

He can't help but notice that she still isn't calling him sir, and he can't help but still feel that it's right that she isn't. This new Hannah, who isn't covering her ways with politeness confuses him a little bit – surprises him a little bit – but it's working better like that, in any case.

And he feels that he's doing the best he can with this gentle, trusting Hufflepuff – but how can he seriously being giving her truth serum and lying to her about it? The potion will make her better, and he knows that everything in that potion is for her own good… But she really believes that the Veritaserum is going to make her better…

He watches carefully as she takes a drink from the potion, grimacing at the taste, and then takes a deep breath and drinks it all in one go. He tries to take a bit of solace in the fact that she immediately looks better with it down her, and he can tell that he's taken away that pain from her. Maybe it's only the easy pain that he's taken away, but at least it's something.

He calmly approaches Hannah as she's still recovering, grimacing as her leg heals itself. Even as he knows that he has to do this, it still doesn't feel right – but he has to do it, and he knows that. So, taking a deep breath, he steels his nerves, stands over Hannah and asks, "Who did this to you?"

The question is barely out of his mouth when she blurts out the answer, and he winces at the look of fear on her face at her talking without her consent. "Pansy Parkinson," she tells him, quickly, suddenly, jerkily.

He nods once, shortly, turning his face away from her anguished one. It's not that he's trying to forgive himself about that little act of trickery – it's just that he doesn't want to see what he's done, when he meant it with good intentions. Pansy will be duly punished, now - and Hannah will be safe around school.

But it quickly becomes difficult to remember that, as it's just as he is about to turn around again that the potion starts to take full effect and Hannah starts to mumble to herself. "I didn't remember what Veritaserum did and now I do," he hears her say, her voice low and panicking, clearly not wanting to say those words. "I don't know what I'm going to say next, oh-"

Grimacing, Severus turns around and cuts through Hannah's babble. "Would you like me to go into the next room until it wears off?" he asks curtly, coldly, but making sure that she knows he means it. The Veritaserum has done what he needed it to – he doesn't need to hear any of this.

But then, to his surprise, she immediately shakes her head tearfully. "No, I'm scared alone," she says back instantly.

He blinks, his heart dropping at that immense fear she seems to have, as she begins to blush furiously red, becoming more and more tearful by the second. It's not difficult to tell that she didn't want to say that, and that there's a lot of things that she's about to say that she'd rather he didn't hear – but he's not leaving now that she's asked him not to. He owes her at least that much.

He silently hands Hannah a tissue, trying to ignore her mumbling to herself as she starts to blurt out something about having a crush on Neville Longbottom. He knows that she doesn't want him to know, even if she doesn't want to be alone – and so he rustles papers on his desk, and pretends that he doesn't care.

Even as she moves onto rambling on about her sexuality, Severus remains with his head bent over his desk, trying not to listen, despite how curious he is about what she really feels, having been talking to her about it for over an hour, now, and still not really having any information from her. Since it's his fault she's telling him all this, he makes a change from his normal self, and tries to respect her privacy – that is, until she says something that makes him snap his head up in surprise.

"Phoebe said I was a freak when I told her."

That… that was not by any means what Severus had expected, and he looks carefully into Hannah's tearstained face as she continues to talk about it, trying his hardest to push away memories of another judgemental sister, another sister who had looked at someone different and told them that it wasn't right.

He remembers – he doesn't want to, but he remembers those looks that Petunia had given him and Lily, those looks that so clearly said what she was thinking. He remembers how he had instinctively gone to use his magic, the first time – but then how Lily, lovely, gentle Lily has grabbed his arm and told him to leave it. She was his sister.

And Severus had never really _understood_ any of those family emotions, how you were supposed to stand by people, but how they apparently didn't have to stand by you. It didn't seem fair – but coming from the background that he did, Severus had just left it, and let Lily lead the way.

But he's here now, and he has no Lily to lead the way, not really… and he's here, in his cold, dark office, with Hannah Abbott crying about her sister, and he doesn't know what to do. It comes to him all in a flash, and it's so true – he has no idea what he's doing. Normally, a solution will just come to him, normally he can be rational and precise, but with this…

He finds himself looking intently at Hannah as she continues to talk, and he continues to panic. This isn't right – it can't be right that she's here, with him – but he has to listen. Even though it's causing him to feel things that he doesn't want to feel, he still has to listen.

"She told me that it wasn't normal to be thinking about girls like that," she mumbles hollowly, and Severus can't quite tell if she knows he's listening or not. "She said she'd tell Mum if I talked about it again."

Severus flinches, but doesn't say anything, only watches Hannah from the behind the comfortable security of his big teacher's desk. He watches as she starts to sob – starts to think about her Mum's reaction – starts to think about how her sister is going to react…

"I don't want her to stop loving me," she sobs out, and Severus has to talk.

"You are not a freak, Hannah," he says quietly, and he sees her looks up at him with surprise at him having used her first name. It seems to calm her somehow - and, though Severus isn't quite sure why, he knows that it has to be a good thing.

He finds himself standing up and going to sit next to her on that cold stone bench where she's now sobbing for the millionth time this evening. This time, though, he can't quite leave her alone, or silently pass her a tissue. He has to do something.

It's a tiny gesture, just sitting there next to her, his own hands in his lap as Hannah continues to cry. Still, it seems to help – and if it's as simple as this, Severus can't quite help but wonder where he's been going wrong teaching all these years.

**A/N – Sorry it took me ages to update - it takes a long time to type when you're crying over fictional characters… **


	12. 12

**12**

Hannah takes a while to cry herself into silence.

As the seconds and minutes pass, she feels the Veritaserum start to wear off, and her tiny mumbled confessions start to tumble off her tongue less and less. That's nice – and it's partly that that helps her cry herself into silence – but, for some inexplicable reason, the thing that's really calming her down is the presence of Professor Snape beside her.

He's not even doing anything – he isn't talking, or touching her, or any of the things that normally calm Hannah down. He's just sitting, still and quiet, and Hannah can't even tell if he's looking at her or not. Still, and it really is inexplicable – she feels calmer with him sat beside her.

And it's for this reason that this is probably the strangest part of the evening – for though Hannah did come here for sympathy, and for help, she had expected a certain kind of help from Professor Snape. If she's completely honest with herself, it hadn't even been too surprising when he had shouted at her, and bullied her – in fact, she hadn't even really expected him to let her in at all, despite how much she had wanted him to.

She doesn't like to think that – but it does raise the question of why she even came here in the first place. She can tell herself that she knew he had a good heart under it all for as long as she wants, but she can't have, not really. Her quiet crying continues as she tries to push away the thought that maybe she didn't want his help, not really.

It's ironic – but this is probably the first time that anyone who hasn't wanted help from Professor Snape has got anything in the vague vicinity of help, but he's here, and he's sitting next to her on the cold stone bench in the corner of his office, as she cries, sobs, shudders, thinking and talking about her mother and sister, and even burbling out a few secrets about her dad, her slightly clueless dad who doesn't even like her much in the first place, she's sure. These are things that she's never told anyone – and it's the potion talking – but she can't deny that he's listening.

And he's being so _kind_ – he's actually being fucking kinder than her dad has ever been to her. It's not that her dad's a complete bastard, she has to remind herself – just that he doesn't know a lot about being kind, especially to her. Maybe if he was there the whole year round, it would be different, and Hannah and him would be more comfortable around each other – but he isn't, and they aren't. Even Phoebe, who is more outgoing, and who their dad likes better, isn't completely comfortable around him. Maybe that's why she's so ridiculously touched by Professor Snape's kindness.

It has to be said, though, that he's being much kinder than he normally would. Calling her Hannah – well, that had been the most unexpected thing of all. Hannah's almost certain that he's never called a student by their first name before.

Why is he being so kind to her?

She starts to shiver as the potion finally wears off completely. She's not entirely sure if it's the absence of the fever or the effects of the potion, or just because she's in such a state – and her state doesn't improve exactly when she feels Professor Snape's cloak being draped around her shoulders. She can't help but sob a little bit at it.

As her mind starts to clear, though, and her thoughts become considerably more coherent, her sobs start to cease, and she wipes her eyes, her face now blushing brightly at all the things that she's just told him. All the things that she's never really told anyone before.

Taking a deep breath, she stems the flow of tears with the palm of her hand, and shakily looks up at Professor Snape, her face glowing and her gaze nervous. To her slight relief, he isn't meeting her eyes, but instead staring into the room, his face slightly covered by a darkness that she can't quite fathom. She looks away again, down into her lap – but then Professor Snape finally talks.

"Would you like me to speak to your sister?"

Hannah feels like she should consider for a minute, like she should think carefully about his offer, because it's nothing if not kind – but she's quick to see the mistake that it would be, and ends up quickly shaking her head. "No, thank you, sir," she says, back to politeness and sentences that don't say much.

Her heart drops when she thinks about Phoebe finding out, though, because Phoebe has one of the most explosive tempers that Hannah knows, and she isn't going to be happy about it. Hannah knows it would be helpful to have someone there with them – but Professor Snape is most definitely not the person. The two of them do not, by any stretch of the imagination, get on – apparently Professor Snape doesn't appreciate being told that a girl needs to leave his class because "the painters are in" - and, equally, apparently Phoebe doesn't appreciate being given detention for giving a teacher inappropriate information.

Hannah sighs. There isn't a lot of people that Phoebe can talk about without criticising, including Hannah, actually – but she's finding it difficult now not to think about how harsh so many people are about Professor Snape. Even Susan, who's eternally fair, doesn't like him.

And if he can be this nice to Hannah, and make Hannah feel so safe – why can't he do that for everyone? Certainly, apart from Professor Lupin and Professor Sinistra, their teachers are all rather strict – but not to the extent of Professor Snape. Why does he do it, and why isn't he being a bastard now?

But then she realises what she's thinking – and regrets it. She shouldn't be questioning why he's being nice – she shouldn't be remembering the times when he isn't. She should just be enjoying it while it lasts, and appreciating it. It must, she realises, be a big effort for him to be this nice for her.

Hannah takes another deep breath, and looks up at Professor Snape, trying her hardest to tell what exactly that expression he has is. It's not a positive expression, that's for sure – but what it is, Hannah can't quite tell. She feels, though, that if he's making such an effort for her, she should make an effort back.

"Sir?" she says softly, not moving her gaze from him.

He takes a deep breath. "Yes, Miss Abbott?"

Ah, so it's Miss Abbott again now. Well, that was to be expected, and Hannah quickly puts it out of her mind. She can't expect kindness all the time.

She takes a deep breath. "Are you… are you OK, sir?" she asks tentatively.

It's a second, but then something even more surprising happens – Professor Snape laughs, softly, not unkindly – hollowly, sadly, quietly, but he does laugh, and Hannah finds her expression move into one of alarm before she realises how ridiculous that is, and stops.

"You are interminably kind, Miss Abbott," he says, a little dully. "But yes, I am alright."

Hannah nods, turning her face away. He's lying – bloody hell, of course he's lying, why would she ask that? – but Hannah ignores it, and lets her hair cover her own face. Perhaps understanding what Professor Snape is thinking is just one step too far now.

**A/N – I haven't updated in ages. Silly exams. Anyway, let me know what you think? I have various ideas about where to take this from here, but I'd like to hear what people think :)  
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	13. 13

**13**

Severus doesn't have a clue what he's doing.

And yet… and yet somehow the girl does. How does that work? She is upset – she has been bullied - and she has been hexed, even if the magic was more cloudy than dark – but she is the one asking him if he's alright. How does that work?

He doesn't look back up at her, feeling slightly awkward. What does he ask her? What can he do to help her? He wants to help, especially now – but what does he do? She doesn't want him to talk to her sister – thank Merlin, because the sister is a complete menace – and she is no longer ill, she no longer needs potions. What does he do to help her?

He sits still beside the girl, hoping vaguely that she'll talk, or cry again, or just do something. She doesn't, though – and Severus puts his brain to work.

He hesitates a second, but then speaks. "Your parents," he asks, with a stiff demeanour, and a slight hesitation in his voice. "Are they… are they aware of what has happened?"

A rather predictable question to ask, perhaps, but Severus feels that it's a necessary one – and besides, it gives him something to say. Something to concentrate on. Something that he can help with, perhaps.

Hannah – Merlin, how can he call her Hannah like he knows her? _She's your student_, Severus reminds himself, and then sees the ridiculous in what he's just reminded himself. He knows she's a student – it's not as if he's attracted to her, and it's not as if it's against the rules to be nice to a student.

His mind strays to Lupin, again, the one all the students like, and the one they all go to. He has somehow gotten them to trust him – and the first name basis must be a start. Perhaps Severus should have started like that – but he hasn't, and he can't change his ways now.

Hannah starts at his voice, and then looks up at him. He avoids those brown eyes, still full of caring and general Hufflepuff-ness, but sees her shake her head, slightly, apparently stricken by the sudden realisation that she hasn't told her parents anything yet.

"Oh, Merlin," she says softly, to herself. "Oh, Merlin, they're going to find out now, aren't they?"

Severus doesn't reply, and awkwardly standing up, the professor moves to the other side of the room, quickly, not knowing exactly what he is going to do, until he catches sight of his parchment and quill. Quickly picking up a sheet – two sheets, her parents are divorced – he takes steps over back to where the girl is sitting, now biting on her lip and looking anguished.

He holds out the parchment to her. "Write to them," he says, working hard to keep the coldness out of his voice when giving such a blunt statement. "You should tell them yourself."

It's Hannah's turn to sigh, and she does so as she reaches out and takes the parchment and quill from him. "Thank you, sir," she says politely, but he can tell her mind is somewhere else.

He nods, once, shortly, and walks back over to sit behind his desk and pretend that he isn't watching the girl, worried about her in a way that is slightly less inexplicable than it was an hour ago. She pauses, and just about stops herself from chewing on his quill – and then, slowly, haltingly, she begins to write.

Severus looks down at the essays that he's supposed to be marking, and picks up his marking quill. In the next half-an-hour, he manages to make a few half-hearted snarky remarks about the writer's incompetence and lack of knowledge – but his heart isn't in it, and he keeps glancing up at the girl instead.

She seems to have stolen his concentration – for he has never seen Hannah look so absorbed by writing anything before. Normally, she's whispering to the Bones girl, or just in a daydream, rather than concentrating on her work. Maybe that's just Potions, though. He doesn't know anything about the girl. Maybe she normally works this diligently when she's working on Transfiguration or Charms. He just doesn't know.

Still, it takes her half-an-hour to write two short, shaky letters, one to each of her parents, and he sees her hesitate and carefully deliberate each word and read each sentence over. When she finally finishes, she takes a shaky breath in, and looks up at the professor.

He pretends he hasn't been watching her, and looks up as well to meet her eyes. He stands up. "Give them to me," he says shortly. "I will send them for you."

He's telling the truth – he will send them for her, and he will do it as fast as he can. First, though, as the girl leans her head against the cold wall, looking drained, he slowly opens one of the letters, his back turned to her, and reads.

He doesn't want to – he wants to be a Hufflepuff, and be honest and loyal, and just send them. He isn't, though – he isn't a Hufflepuff and he never will be. He's a Slytherin, and he's deceptive, and that must be why he's slowly opening the folded and neatly addressed parchment.

_Mum,_

_I sort of have to tell you something. You're going to find out anyway, and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before. I kissed one of the girls in Ravenclaw. She's called Luna. I really like her, but I'm not a lesbian. I think I like boys as well. I'm really sorry, Mum, I didn't want to have to tell you this by letter, but everyone knows. This other girl saw us and kiss and told everyone. That's not really important, though. I'm just really, really sorry, Mum. Please don't disown me, or anything. I sort of told Phoebe before, and I know she's not the most honest, but she said that you wouldn't like it. Maybe I shouldn't trust Phoebe, but if she's right, I just won't talk about it in front of you, if you want. I'm really sorry._

_Hannah xxx_

Severus swallows.

He pretty much regrets reading that, now, and quickly folds it up and pretends that he was just sealing it. He doesn't open the other one – it can't say anything that this one doesn't, and thanks to the secrets that he's just heard from her, he knows that it will be stiff and written without a hint of comfort. He doesn't want to read that.

He picks up his wand and silently waves it to summon an owl, and stays silent as he ties the letter to its leg. It's easier, that – he has something to do with his hands, and the girl won't be able to tell that there's a slight quiver in them.

Besides, talking is the last thing he wants to do after reading that.

He's just about to turn around when a bell rings – curfew. It's with a slight sense of relief that he realises the girl has to leave now – that he has no obligation to talk to her – that he doesn't have to look in her hurt eyes and see anything that he doesn't want to.

But then he thinks, then he puts his mind to work, and then he realises that he can't possibly let her walk back to the Hufflepuff common room alone, not after the last time she was in the corridors alone, especially since he hasn't found or punished Pansy Parkinson yet. He swallows, composes himself, and turns around.

"Curfew," he says shortly. "Come along. I have to talk to Professor McGonagall in any case."

Hannah nods shakily, and slowly pulls herself up off of the bench. He watches her carefully, for any sign of pain – but she's fine. Quiet, pale-faced, still shaking, but otherwise fine.

She doesn't question his story about Professor McGonagall, which is good, because it's a lie. Probably she realises that – of course she realises that – but it's better that she doesn't mention it. A lot better, actually, and Severus sighs that that's the case. He watches the girl go slightly shakily out of his office, and then, taking a deep breath, goes to follow her into the corridor.

**A/N – I really need to update more. Anyhow, hope you enjoyed.**


	14. 14

**14**

Hannah knows that he doesn't need to go and see Professor McGonagall.

She appreciates, it, though, she realises as they walk out of his office and through the dark corridors of the dungeons. She doesn't have to worry, this way, about Pansy and the others coming around a corner and the same thing happening again…

Oddly, it isn't actually worrying her either that she might be bothering him, making him feel like he has to walk her back to her dorm. It did occur to her – but she quickly reasoned that this was probably the least bothering part of their evening, after her hysterical sobbing, running off, being attacked and then telling him about her dad…

Her mind does start to worry, however, when it drifts back to her parents. She doesn't know how long it's going to be before they write back – what they'll write back – if they'll disown her, or be angry, or what. She hasn't even had a chance to test the water about it. She's literally just dropped herself in it, and she doesn't know how it's going to go.

She glances quickly up at Professor Snape, just to see what his expression is like, and isn't too surprised to see that he hasn't really got much of an expression at all. He's not smiling – of course not, the idea is slightly absurd – but he isn't actually frowning as he normally does. It's quite nice.

She quickly looks down again when he glances at her in return, blushing slightly in some kind of embarrassment. It doesn't even take a second for her to quickly shift her expression into something more neutral, like his. She's so exhausted that it's tiring to walk.

After a second, she realises that his eyes are still on her, and so she isn't surprised when he speaks. "Would you rather spend the night in the Hospital Wing?" he asks, more quieter than usual, and certainly not as sharply. It's not as if his voice is warm, but she knows he means kindly.

He sighs and then continues, not giving her a chance to respond. "You won't be ill from this evening," he tells her slightly stiffly. "I only mean that it would be understandable if you were upset about what has happened."

She blinks, and feels her face open slightly in surprise – because it's still a surprise, somehow, that he's not being a dick about this. She's almost certain that if it hadn't been for what had happened that evening then he wouldn't be so kind – that is to say, if he had thought she was upset, but hadn't seen why, then he certainly wouldn't be offering her a place in the Hospital Wing.

She hesitates, but then shakes her head. "No, it's alright," she says, shyly looking up at him. "I'll be OK."

It's almost the truth, and Hannah thinks that Professor Snape probably knows it – because she will be OK, but only if Susan doesn't judge her and Phoebe doesn't start a fight. If they do – and she doesn't want to think about this – then she most probably won't be alright. Still, she has to face them sometime.

He barely reacts, and simply nods. "Very well," he says shortly. Hannah's pretty sure that he still thinks it would be better if she did – but she's glad he doesn't push it. She really doesn't want to go up and see Madam Pomfrey and try and explain this to a whole other person.

They continue to walk up along the corridor, and Hannah alternates between awkwardly glancing up at him and awkwardly looks the floor. There's no eye contact, though, this time, because the professor doesn't look down at her at all. Hannah feels bad, almost, for not accepting his offer - it's not often that he's kind, and maybe she should be responding more welcomingly to it.

"Thank you, though, sir," she says softly, after a second, still looking up at his face. "It's nice of you."

He continues not to make eye contact, and nods again, but doesn't speak. It's all becoming slightly awkward, now, and Hannah's almost certain that it's because they're now out of Professor's Snape's office, his space. Of course, all of this has been out of his comfort zone, she has been able to tell, but perhaps now that they're leaving the dungeons, they're moving further away.

They continue to walk, up the stone steps, and into a lighter part of the castle, away from the dark dungeons. While there are advantages to that, and while Hannah certainly feels more comfortable the closer they get to Hufflepuff, there's certainly a disadvantage, in that there are people here.

She feels the curious eyes of the Ravenclaws gathered in a huddle, waiting for an astronomy lesson, as her and the Potions professor pass. Her face starts to colour, slightly – it's not that she's embarrassed to be with the professor, but she knows that it must look weird, and in any case, she still doesn't like that many people looking at her.

Her arms fold defensively, almost by themselves, when she hears a few whispers and giggles start to come from the Ravenclaws. It's just her luck that they're from her year, so they have heard the rumours, and they actually care. It's not even Luna's class, and that would have been the only saving grace.

Her face starts to burn as the whispers continue to grow as they get nearer. She doesn't think that the professor has noticed, still staring ahead as they walk – and she's surprised when she hears a voice next to her say sharply, "Silence, all of you."

It's weird – she's had three years of that voice being so sharp, and yet in the course of one evening she has gotten used to it being slightly more gentle, and slightly more understanding. She flinches slightly – but still, she's glad of it as the Ravenclaws' whispers immediately die down, and she feels their eyes off of her.

Then another pair of eyes are on her, but they're much more concerned this time. She doesn't look up at the professor as he looks down at her, her face still burning, but after a second, she swallows, and speaks, softly. "Thank you."

Professor Snape doesn't respond to this, but only continues to walk, though Hannah rather thinks that she can see a small kind of worry in his face as she glances up at him once again. Still, she doesn't have much time to think about this, for it's only another few seconds before they reach the Hufflepuff common room.

**A/N – This will probably be the penultimate chapter. I have a kind of idea for an epilogue but I don't know if it needs it, as it is quite short. Anyway. There'll be at least one more chapter. Not for seventeen years, knowing me, but meh. Also, sorry this one took so long.**


	15. 15

**15**

Severus doesn't want them to hurt her.

It's not even just because he remembers how they used to hurt him, and how he remembers how he hurt Lupin and Black – it's just as much because, as little as he wants to admit it, after spending the evening with this girl, he's feeling strangely fond of her.

And she's so kind, but so soft – he can tell just from the flush of her face that she isn't going to cope with this if she doesn't find some other Hufflepuffs who'll support her. With any luck, they'll live up to their accepting name, but Severus feels strangely anxious that he can't be sure of this. Of course, if any of them start on her during their lessons, or while he's there, then he can help her, he can snap at all of them and make them stop talking – but when he isn't, the girl is going to be on her own.

He stops walking as the two of them reach her common room, and he expects the girl to mumble some thanks, perhaps look awkwardly up at him, and then go quickly inside. He can't shake the feeling that she still isn't comfortable with him, after all of that.

But then, she turns around, and looks him straight in the face. Her voice is soft, certainly, when she talks – but she knows what she's talking about.

"Thank you, sir," she says, and he isn't surprised at that, until she continues, blushing slightly. "You're nicer than most people think you are, and I know you're worried, but I'll be fine." She pauses, awkwardly, and looks back down at her feet. "You helped a lot."

He finds his expression going somewhere between a smile and a frown as he looks down at the girl who seems, bizarrely, to know what he's thinking – and has he really helped a lot? He can't tell if she's just being nice, or just being a Hufflepuff, or if she really thinks that he's helped. Can he really have helped her, when he made her cry, and gave her Veritaserum, and, to a certain extent, it's his fault that she got hurt? And yet she really looks genuine as she stares awkwardly down at the floor in front of him…

"It's my job," he says, almost shortly, trying as hard as he can to keep the cold out of his voice – because while he doesn't want to hurt her feelings, he also doesn't want to make her feel that she has to be in any way grateful for his actions. It is, as he says, his job, and he should be doing this in any case. Lupin and Minerva probably have ample experience of this – and it's his own fault that this is the first time that a student's been really grateful to him, and, ironically, the one time that he feels that she shouldn't.

She blushes slightly, sighing, obviously trying to get words out that she doesn't really know how to say. "Yes," she says at last. "But you still helped."

He finds himself looking almost uncertain as she finally looks up at him again with a slight smile. He doesn't know what to respond to that with – he can't really have helped the girl, can he?

There's a moment of awkward silence – Severus half wants to move away and leave the girl, as he would normally, but he can't shake the feeling that there's something else that she wants to say to him, and he feels that he almost owes that to her, to let her.

And – though he will never admit this – seeing the girl look better in her own environment does make him feel slightly calmer about leaving her to the mercy of her fellow students. She seems just so much comfortable standing in the warm light outside the barrel door of her warm common room and she ever did in his cold dungeon, and perhaps it's easier to leave her here.

She maybe isn't as soft as he thought, seeing her

He stands looking down at the girl, his body straight and tense, as she seems to be trying, hesitantly, to say something else, moving her lips uncertainly without making any sound. She struggles for a few seconds more, and he can't help but wonder what it is that she's so worried about saying to him.

Then, before he has a chance to even think up any reasonable theories, he feels a small warm body meet his as Hannah gently moves forward and hugs him.

It's odd – but as she buries her face into his chest, sniffing a little bit, he realises that he's never really had a hug like this from a student before. Certainly, he's had hugs – Dumbledore, Narcissa, Lily – but they were different. They were comfort, or politeness, or, if he dares to think it, love – and this is something entirely different, and it's not even just because she's a student.

It's not like the hugs that he's had from students before, as few and far between as they have been. It's not like that seducing embrace that he got from Gemma Farley – it's not like that lonely squeeze from Luna Lovegood – it's not even like that over-emotional rugby tackle that he once got from Nymphadora Tonks, though the two are both overly-emotional Hufflepuffs. He doesn't have a clue what to compare it to.

For a second, he stands, her head leaning into his chest, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air, because he literally doesn't know how to respond to this. Then, he takes a brave step, and gently wraps one arm around her back and puts the other tentatively on the back of her blonde head.

They stand for a second more, the girl leaning into him with all the innocence of a child, and him trying to comfort her with all the naivety of one. Then, and he hears her take a deep breath in beforehand, the girl pulls away, and he immediately lets go, meeting her eyes slightly uncertainly as she looks up him.

"Thank you, sir," she half-whispers again, and disappears into her common room.

**A/N – So, this is the last chapter. I kind of have an idea for an epilogue, but I don't know whether to write it or not. This is most probably the end. I'll decide soon. Sorry, this is a rubbish (possibly) last A/N. I feel like I should wow you with my philosophical skills or something. **


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Pansy Parkinson doesn't enjoy her detentions.

For one thing, they go on for months. She has to say that she's surprised by how harsh Snape is being on her – after all, this isn't the first time she's done something like this, but this is the first time he's ever given her a month's detention. How is that even fair anyway? All she did was defend her territory…

And that dick of a Professor seems to have decided to make all these detentions as bad as he possibly can for her, because he's making her write _apologies._ Pansy's fairly certain that there would be nothing worse he could make her do. She's just hoping that he isn't going to send the letters to Abbott, and to Abbott's friends, and to him for making him to waste his time on the girl…

But if he thinks it was all such a waste of time, why is he punishing her so, and why does he keep snarling at her and telling her to be silent in class when she's trying to subtly make Abbott cry again?

Twat.

And the whole thing would be slightly less humiliating if Abbott was doing worse with it. Certainly, Pansy and her Slytherins give her looks whenever they can, as much as they can get away with, and she's seen the Ravenclaws, even, give her those looks sometimes. She sees Abbott's face harden when they do, every time, and it has to be said, it makes Pansy feel better about all the detentions - but the Gryffindors lay off, just about, probably just because Longbottom fancies Abbott, and that's not even the worse part.

Those _Hufflepuffs _are actually going _beyond_ accepting her.

Every time she tries to hurt Abbott, to pay her back for being such a snivelling piece of shit and getting her into these detentions, those _Hufflepuffs_ are there, putting their arm around her and supporting her. It makes hurting Abbott fucking difficult, something which Pansy is most definitely not happy about.

She does smirk slightly thinking about the other morning in the Great Hall, however – because the girl did get a kind of payback in the form of the other Abbott girl. No one in the Hall, quietly eating breakfast, had expected her to come storming in and start screeching at her older sister – and it had been some pretty loud screeching, involving something about their mum being too soft and their dad not wanting to push her away, but really she was still a freak. Surprisingly hurtful stuff, actually.

And it had been a nice few seconds, until original Abbott had just quietly gotten up and started walking out. Pansy's heart had sunk, especially when Professor McGonagall, the other Abbott's head of house, had come marching up to the sister and pulled her out of the Hall, evidently about to start giving her an earful. Still, Abbott had looked sufficiently upset, even as that Bones girl started going after her –

That is, until Loony fucking Lovegood had gotten up, ran over, and kissed Abbott square on the mouth.

It had seemed to cheer Abbott up considerably.

Pansy had scowled.

And there had been wolf-whistles, and giggles, but they were just the same kind of giggles and whistles that came about whenever anyone snogged in public. It hadn't even been worse because they were two girls, and, to Pansy's astonishment, none of the teachers had even told them off. McGonagall had just continued marching the other Abbott out of the hall, Dumbledore had smiled ever so slightly, and Snape had barely even scowled.

That brings her, again, to the most annoying part of this whole thing – Snape. Why in fuck's name is he being so nice to her? Pansy thinks that he might even have sent her on that errand on purpose the other day when the Ravenclaws started sniggering at her, to save her feelings. Why is he being so soft on her, just because _she's_ soft? There are a lot of weaklings in Hufflepuff, so why is he so attached to _her_?

But whatever the reason is, he just keeps being not a dick to Abbott, and even more of a dick to Pansy. It is enough, actually, to make her believe that perhaps he feels _sorry_ for that girl, that he's secretly _kind_ and _understanding…_

Pansy sighs. This particular set of apologies is going to take all evening.

**A/N – Well, that was the epilogue, so this is the end, and probably the most cheerful part of the story, actually. I hope you've enjoyed, I have enjoyed writing it (except the bits that made me nearly die of the feelings…)**


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